Wrecked
by eriddle46
Summary: Dean and a human Castiel must work together to survive when they get stranded in the mountains during a blizzard, but the time alone forces them to confront the pain and the hard truths they've both been hiding from (Destiel).
1. One

**Warnings: I'm not promising a happy ending. I'm not saying there won't be one, but if you're one of those people who need a happy ending, I don't want to disappoint you. **

**This story also doesn't fit really anywhere in the timeline of SPN. It includes issues like Cas pulling Dean from Hell, the apocalypse and Cas's betrayal, but this is a more a story to speak of the characters and their relationship.**

"Sam, you should be here. It's kick ass." Dean pressed his foot on the gas, the Impala vibrating beneath his boot. He looked out the slightly frosted window to the white-and-grey peaks and the glowing purple sunset.

"We've been places like that before," Sam said through the phone. He was back with Bobby working on another case.

"No. We haven't." This place was remarkable, unearthly. A sight unlike anything he even saw in heaven. If he went to heaven now, it would probably look like this.

Sam laughed. "See you later."

"Yeah, man." Dean hung up the phone.

He and Cas were hundreds of miles into the Canadian Rocky Mountains. He had never been this deep into the wilderness before, and he couldn't believe that Sam had volunteered to miss it. Cas had come along, but he'd lived for thousands of years. He'd seen everything. His excitement was limited.

"I'm hungry." Cas still hadn't gotten used to being human. He was starving every few hours, not unlike a newborn baby. It was sometimes annoying, but mostly just kind of funny.

"There's food in the backseat."

Cas unbuckled his seatbelt. He leaned over the seat and yanked the black bag into his lap. He dug through the contents with a concentrated look on his face.

"All you have are corn nuts and something called Oreos." He sighed. "Oh beef jerky. I like beef jerky."

"Since when?"

"I tried it last week. I thought it was very good. Much better than corn nuts. I do _not_ like corn nuts."

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. Cas's voice played with a distinct staccato rhythm Dean had come to know well over the years. The sound provided a certain comfort whenever he heard it.

The sun dipped even further behind the snow-blanketed mountains as small flakes began to fall and freeze on the Impala's windows. A chill raced across Dean's skin. He turned up the heat. Maybe he should have listened to Sam and driven a Jeep up here, but he missed his Impala, and once they arrived in Fenner's Lake, they wouldn't have to drive much anymore. Besides Dean knew how to drive his car, even in heavy snow. No. He wasn't worried at all.

Cas put the rest of the food back in the pack, and stuffed the bag in the backseat again. He placed his leg on the dash, and leaned against the window. The way he reclined his head, the collar of his black fleece jacket hid his chin and part of his face.

"Dean?" Cas yawned.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Turn on that music you like."

Dean smiled. He pushed in the plastic dial. There was quick hiss of static, and then the first chords of "Wanted: Dead or Alive" sang out from the speakers. In the lulls of the music, he could hear Cas's gentle breaths.

He took a deep breath. The air smelled like the Impala, like cheap food and whiskey. Dean rolled down the window just a crack. The wind whistled in, and the cold air streamed across his cheek. It smelled like cold, crisp pine.

Dean flipped on the lights, illuminating several feet in front of the car. Snow fell in big flakes now, sticking to the windshield and the road. Thankfully, he had three fourths of a tank of gas, and only thirty miles to Fenner's Lake.

He and Cas would be there soon.

###

_"I have to do this," Castiel said. "He's the one from the prophecy."_

_"If he is dead," Joshua replied. "Then maybe the prophecy is not meant to be."_

_"But - I've been watching over him."_

_Joshua's lips turned into a small, disapproving frown. "Do as you must, Castiel, but do not pretend that you do this out of loyalty. You tear him from hell for you."_

_Castiel said nothing else, but he knew Joshua was wrong. He wasn't pulling Dean from hell's clutches for himself. He was doing it for Dean. Just Dean. Always Dean, and he hadn't even met him yet._

_It had burned like nothing Castiel had felt before when his hand touched Dean. It was a pain he could sometimes feel humming on his skin, a constant reminder of what he'd done and of who he'd done it for._

The car jolted forward, waking Castiel from his sleep. He sat straight up. The Impala was spinning; his head was spinning. He reached for the window. It felt cold – why was he thinking of the cold? What did that matter now?

The tires screeched on the road, and his stomach dropped as the back end of the Impala dipped over the edge of the mountainside.

Dean cursed, and the car flipped on its side. Sharp pain struck Castiel from all sides. Pain like he'd never felt. The breath sucked out of him. He was screaming and Dean was screaming. Metal crushed around them, screeching and breaking.

The car thudded hard and stopped, upside down.

Castiel blinked. He reached out, trying to get to Dean, trying to see him, but Dean's eyes were closed. And, oh, what if he were dead? He couldn't be- But the world was fizzling out around Castiel, sparking in bursts of grey and black until the pain was gone and he was somewhere else.

_"Why are you doing this?" Crowley asked._

_"It was your idea," Castiel replied._

_"Why listen to me? The King of Hell? Surely, you were taught to be more discerning."_

_Castiel turned and looked at him. "Because all along. He's never been there. All those people pray," _People like Dean_, he thought, _"_And there's no one there to answer them, to hear them."_

_"And what are you going to do with a million prayers you can't answer?"_

_"I'll find a way to help them." There had to be a way._

_Because now he would have the power. The power to defeat evil once and for all, the power to free Dean from this life. _

###

"Cas, Cas are you alive?" Dean coughed, his lungs aching. "Come on, you lived through the dinosaurs."

Dean's whole body stung, but he couldn't think about the horrible pain. Not now. Right now, he needed to make sure Cas was alive. Cas was what mattered.

"I did not live through the dinosaurs," Cas said.

Momentary relief seized Dean. Hurt or not, at least Cas was still breathing, and if he was breathing there was hope.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, man. I promise."

Taking a deep breath, Dean forced his seat belt loose, and wedged himself through the broken window. Sharp glass tore into his skin, ripping the flesh, but he pushed through the pain until he was outside, lying on snow. The cold burned his skin but soothed his cuts at the same time.

"Dean, I'm stuck." Cas was hyperventilating. "Dean, please, I can't. I seem to be- I can't _move._"

Dean's heart pounded as he crawled through the snow around the destroyed Impala. The cold stung his fingers and his knees, his wet clothes sticking to his body. He didn't care, he couldn't care. He had to get to Cas.

"I'm here," Dean said. "I've got you." He dug through the snow until he could see into the car. Cas was bloodied and bruised, and Dean was sure he looked just as bad.

Dean reached over Cas and unbuckled his seat belt. The metal lock snapped back, nearly slapping him in the face. He gasped.

"Dean. What are we going to do? Dean?"

"Shut up," he said harshly, but then calmed his tone of voice. "We're going to be fine. We've survived worse. Much worse."

But Cas never had. Not as a human.

"You need to slide out through the window." Dean pulled gently on Cas's arm. "I'll help. Just push with your legs."

"Okay," Cas's voice was shaking. In a few moments, Dean felt Cas push against him so he pulled harder. He pulled and pulled until they were both free of the wreckage.

Dean collapsed beside Cas, gasping for air.

"Is anything broken?" Dean asked. "Can you move?"

"My leg hurts," Cas whimpered.

"Do you think you can move on it?"

Dean gripped the rough bark of a nearby tree and cut his hand as he crawled to his feet. Leaning against the trunk, he helped Cas stand as well. Cas was even less steady than he was, and he tumbled against Dean.

Dean wrapped his arm around Cas's weight, holding him up.

"I've got you," Dean said. "We'll get out of here."

He felt Cas nod against his shoulder.

"Let's get back to the road."

"The road was closed. Remember?"

Dean felt sick. Nobody would be coming by anytime soon. Right now what they needed was a dry place where Dean could make a fire, where they could warm up and assess their injuries.

"There's got to be a cave around here," Dean said, mostly to himself. "We'll find it. That's all we have to do."

"I don't think I can make it," Cas said. "It hurts, and I'm _human_ and I'm not like you, Dean. I'm weak. Just go."

"You are Castiel, a warrior of heaven, and you can walk five damn minutes to a cave."

Dean stepped forward, making sure to have Cas firmly in his grip. They stumbled back to the Impala wreck. Dean pulled out some food they had in the trunk. A box of power bars, some apples that had been Sam's, a bottle of whiskey, some water. He also took two rifles. Dean stuffed it all into a duffle with sleeping bags and extra clothes and tossed it over his shoulder.

Pain shocked through him, but he grit his teeth and pressed on toward the rocky mountainside, gripping onto Cas. The wind stung his face and ears as it streamed mercilessly through the trees. He wasn't about to die out here, not after everything. Dean would keep them alive. He had to. He had to keep Cas alive.

###

_Castiel had watched the ice age from heaven. The move of the glaciers over the earth. He'd watched the dinosaurs as some of them died and some of them found ways to survive, in the water or in the sky. He watched the thick layer of icy white paint creation, and mammoths push their way through the ten-foot drifts of snow. He'd seen packs of saber-toothed cats corner massive prey, bring it down and tear it to shreds. From a distance, it had been at some times beautiful, and at others, dull. Castiel had found the earth all rather amusing, or insignificant, coming and going with little effect on him._

_Then there had been Dean. _

_For the first time, he understood what his Father had seen in humanity. Why the humans had been his favorite._

Walking through the heavy wet snow numbed Castiel's whole body. It had been painful at first, but now he felt nothing. Nothing but the hum of the pain from when he'd touched Dean in hell all those years ago. That was still there. It seemed nothing could drown it out.

Dean was still holding him, and he was still holding Dean.

"You see that?" Dean's voice was hoarse. "In the edge of that cliff."

There was a small opening in the side of a greyish rocky mountain

"We can get there. We can't stop now," Dean said.

Castiel had no idea how long they'd been walking. It could have been five minutes or ten hours. How would he know? Or even venture to guess? Just because he was now in a human body didn't mean he had a clear concept of time. When someone had been alive as long as he had, it messed with perspective.

Covered in blood and bruises, Dean and Castiel ducked into the cave. It smelled of mold and sulfur.

"I hope that's not demon sulfur."

"We have the guns," Castiel reminded Dean.

"Yeah. At least we have that much." Dean gently pushed down on Castiel's shoulders. "Sit."

Castiel obliged. Dean stopped touching him, and Castiel wished he wouldn't. Fear gripped him.

"It is dark in here. Bears live in caves. I saw it on the television."

Dean laughed, and even in a place like this, it was perfect. The sound echoed, which made it even better.

"For a guy as old as you, you'd think ya wouldn't have to learn about bears from a television."

But Castiel wasn't an angel sent to watch over nature. "I've never been assigned bears."

Dean laughed again. This time quietly and through his nose. "I'm assigning you bears now. You see a bear. You tell me."

_I hope there's no bears. But the sulfur. What about demon bears? Wait. There's no such thing as demon bears. Keep it together, Castiel._

"Uh, okay," Castiel replied.

"There we are."

Castiel heard a few more scratches and then a flame flickered before him, growing larger by the second and releasing a curl of smoke. The light was enough that he could see the sharp outline of Dean's face and body.

_"What are you looking at?" asked Jeremiah._

_"Nothing," Cas answered._

_"You're acting strange."_

_"I'm concerned about the keys. That's all. There's only a few left."_

_Jeremiah shook his head. "It's the Winchester. Michael's vessel."_

_Castiel swallowed. "What are you talking about?"_

_He sneered. "God has given you one face and you make yourself another."_

_"You quote a human?"_

_William Shakespeare. Castiel knew the man well. At least, he'd watched him, seen the original performances. _

_Jeremiah's gaze was harsh and unforgiving. "It seems you speak their language now."_

_"I don't-"_

_"The way you look at Michael's vessel. It's almost _violent._"_

_Castiel shook his head. This was way out of line. "I wish Dean Winchester no harm."_

_"Maybe not," Jeremiah said. "But I fear what you _would_ harm to keep Dean Winchester safe. I've seen that kind of violence, that desperate look, only once before."_

_Now Castiel was just forcing down a wave of hot rage. Where was Jeremiah headed with this outrageousness? "Where's that?"_

_"In our brother," Jeremiah let out a terse breath, "Lucifer."_

###

Dean hadn't had much of a chance to think about his pain since getting out of the wreckage. Now he could though. Dean held his hands up to the fire, letting the heat warm through him.

"Come closer, Cas."

Cas looked up at him, his dark eyes wide. His face was cut and bleeding and splotched with purple. Still, Dean found himself looking at him as he always did. Searching the face of his friend for the gravity, for the connection, he could always only find with Cas.

Cas pushed himself over the strewn leaves and the rocks until he was right next to him. His whole body was shaking. Truthfully so was Dean's, but the small fire had already begun to help warm him.

Dean blew on his hands and rubbed them together, delighting in the hot friction it created for a moment before the cuts and scrapes began to burn. Cas tried to do the same thing, but gasped in pain.

"There's glass in my hand," he muttered, frowning down at his open palm.

"Here." Dean took Cas's hand and held it in his palm up. A sharp shard protruded from between his thumb and pointer finger. Blood oozed out around it, thick, red, dripping. The debris was imbedded pretty deep. "I'm gonna pull it out, okay?"

Cas nodded and bit his lip. Dean yanked out of the piece of glass. Cas yelped. Dean squeezed Cas's hand, keeping pressure on the cut.

"I just don't want to think about how much I hurt," said Cas.

"At least it doesn't seem like either of us broke anything. I don't believe in miracles, but maybe for today."

Cas's lips turned in a small smile as he glanced up at Dean. "For today." He shivered again.

Dean was trembling from the cold and the adrenaline as he reached his arm over and placed it on Cas's shoulder. He'd hugged Cas, touched his face and neck when he was hurt, but this was something he'd never done before. Put his arm around Cas just because. He wasn't sure how he'd react.

"It's better if we stay close," Dean said. "For the body heat."

In the bags they'd carried, there were sleeping bags and a couple thermal blankets. Technically, the best way to get and stay warm in a situation like this would be for them to take their clothes off, at least most of them.

"I think I twisted my ankle," Cas said with a sniff.

"Keep it as still as possible, and I'll bandage it up."

Dean reached into one of the bags and pulled out a bandage he could use to wrap up Cas's ankle and keep it straight. He slipped off Cas's boot and then removed his sock. After that, he rolled up Cas's jeans.

Dean never had the occasion to look this closely at Cas's leg before. A line of freckles ran down the bone on top of his foot and in a circle below the line where his leg hair stopped growing.

"You can move it, but it hurts?"

Cas nodded, sniffing again.

"Just checking." Dean wanted to be sure it wasn't broken because it was swollen and slightly purple.

For some reason, he held his breath as he wrapped the bandage around Cas's ankle.

"Thank you," Cas whispered as Dean pulled away.

He checked for other injuries on Cas's body and on his own. He put bandages on their cuts and wiped away the dirt and rocks. Dean even made sure they didn't have concussions. If they did, they could fall asleep and never wake up.

"I'm still cold," Cas said.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He should just man-up and say it. "We could get in the sleeping bags. We can zip them together – and," he took a deep breath, "We need to take off our clothes. Most of them. We'll stay warmer."

"Okay," Cas replied in that monotone voice of his. Sometimes Dean was really thankful for the way that man could just take things in stride. Cas would never judge.

Dean unrolled the sleeping bags and zipped them together into one large sleeping bag. He slowly started removing his clothes: his jacket, his sweater, his shoes and socks. Cas was doing the same, and it was Cas who pulled his shirt off first, revealing his chest, the sharp curve and cut of his torso. Dean looked away quickly, and pulled his own shirt off. Then, they pulled off their jeans, and Dean forced himself not to look at his friend as he slid into the sleeping bag.

"Hurry up, Cas. Before I freeze to death."

"Sorry," he said and slipped in beside him. Dean shut his eyes and listened to Cas zip the bag shut. He looked over and Cas was still wearing his grey winter hat – just like Dean was still wearing his black one.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded. "Tired. Cold."

This was a bad idea, but he had no other choice. "Come closer."

Cas closed the gap between them, laying his head just above Dean's heart. He couldn't breathe. No one had been with him like this since Lisa.

"Are you still cold?" asked Cas.

"No."

"Why are you shaking?"

Dean shut his eyes. He didn't want to think about why, about how his heart was punching his ribs, how the nearness to Cas, the flutter and gasp of his body against his was making him dizzier than the car crash.

"Let's just sleep."

Dean tightened his grasp on Cas's arm, holding him closer, for warmth and for other reasons. Reasons he wasn't prepared to face. Dean listened to the crackle of the fire as it began to burn out, and the sound of the wind whistling outside the cave. Demons and monsters he could handle, but there were no special swords or spells for this disaster. Dean didn't want to admit it, and he certainly wouldn't to Cas, but he had no idea what he was doing.

With Cas in his arms, he drifted to sleep, trying not to fear the danger that would lie ahead in the next few days. For now he repeated one word in his head until it shut out everything else. He'd done this before, dozens of times, when he couldn't sleep. He'd started just after the leviathans first came from purgatory. Counting sheep never worked for him but this always did. Always.

_Castiel. Castiel. Castiel._

And everything was okay. There was still hope.

_Castiel. Castiel. Castiel._

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading. I'm planning on updating around once a week. Please leave reviews. I'd love to know what you think. Thanks again!**


	2. Two

_Castiel would always remember the first time he thought about Dean the way he hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since. It was an ordinary day, and he was helping them with a case, though the particulars of that case had long since drifted away._

_It was October. Red and gold leaves swirled around the grass, and the wind blew cold. Dean stood by towering mostly bare oak tree in the front yard of a house. A child on the other side of the street had tossed a flying disc that landed near Dean. Dean smiled and picked it up quickly. He hurled it back at the child, who jumped and caught the disc._

_"Thanks!" the child shouted._

_Dean nodded, and then his eyes met Castiel's. Dean clearly hadn't noticed him until this moment; his chest expanded quickly as he gasped from surprise, and his eyes widened just a little. Castiel stared at Dean's lips, and considered leaning in. Pressing their mouths together, lightly, just for a moment. Just to see how they fit and how it felt. He'd never been kissed before. Castiel had always wondered what purpose it served. Sex was for reproduction but kissing? What good was it? It remained a mystery to him, but Dean's lips were his first clue._

The next morning, sun shimmered in through the cave's mouth, illuminating their things and the ash that remained from the small fire.

"We should get going," Dean said, pulling his clothes back on. Castiel couldn't help but watch the fluid movement of the muscles running across his chest and under his arms as he slipped his shirt on.

Dean's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing." Castiel blinked, trying to pull himself back to the moment.

"Get dressed," Dean said, his back to Castiel.

Castiel nodded even though Dean wasn't looking at him; he was packing up the rest of their things. Castiel's clothes had sat by the fire all night so they were warm when he put them on.

"Where do we go?" asked Castiel.

"Back to the road. We can follow it into town."

"Town is thirty miles away."

Dean shrugged. "Got a better plan?"

It wasn't until Castiel tried to stand that he understood how much he'd been hurt in last night's accident. He hadn't been in a situation like that since he'd become human. How did Dean and Sam put up with this kind of pain – and the thought that it wouldn't quickly get better?

Dean tossed a power bar at Castiel, who caught it.

"Eat that and," Dean pulled out one of the shotguns. "Carry this."

The metal felt strange and heavy in his hands. He'd never needed a gun before.

"Oh." Nerves buzzed through Castiel. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. "I've never-"

"You'll figure it out."

Dean zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. He limped slightly as he stepped forward. Castiel had been so consumed with his own pain, he'd forgotten to make sure Dean was okay.

"You're hurt."

"And the first prize for best observation goes to the former angel," Dean said sarcastically.

"I didn't mean."

"Let's just get outta here. Come on." Dean clapped Castiel on the shoulder, and the touch jolted through his body. Even though they'd spent all night together, as physically close as they'd ever been, just a simple touch on his back could still make Castiel's world spin around.

There was little Castiel could see of Dean as he was so bundled up in winter gear. He had thick black jacket with a high collar, leather gloves, jeans and boots and a hat pulled down almost over his eyes and covering his ears. All that black forced Castiel to look the one place he didn't need to be looking. Dean Winchester's mouth.

"Earth to Cas; let's go."

"Right." Castiel's picked up his bag and walked toward Dean. He opened up the power bar and at chewed it quickly. He wasn't a big fan of those things, but he was so hungry it tasted great.

"I think that accident mighta knocked something loose in that screwy brain of yours."

Castiel's lips twitched into a nervous little smile, but he hid it as quickly as he could. If only he could stop thinking of Dean this way . . .

_"Where's Sam?" Castiel asked. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed._

_"Out for the night."_

_"Out where?"_

_Dean shrugged. "What am I? His babysitter?"_

_"Maybe- I don't-"_

_Dean laughed. "Sit your angel ass down."_

_"I'm not an angel anymore," said Castiel sadly, but he sat down beside Dean on the bed anyway, shaking just from nearness to the hunter._

_"No wings, no super powers." Dean shrugged. "You're still an angel to me."_

_Suddenly, the unthinkable happened. Dean was kissing him. Hard. Like he'd never been kissed before, even though he had at this point. He slammed Castiel back on the bed and all Castiel could think was _keep going. Don't stop. Keep going. _And he did. _

_Dean's hands were everywhere, sliding across his face, his lips, his arms and his legs. It wasn't enough Castiel wanted closer, closer, closer. But no matter how he pulled at Dean he couldn't do it. Couldn't get the clothes off, couldn't close that distance, couldn't hear his thoughts or his prayers. Dean started melting away like butter and sugar under his fingers, and Castiel tried to hold him together in his hands, but he couldn't. Dean was gone._

_Castiel gasped, shot up out of bed. _

_So that was a dream. He'd never had one before. All he knew was that it left a horrible, achy hollow feeling in his stomach like he hadn't eaten in a week. _

_After all this time, that hollow feeling still hadn't gone away. He still couldn't get Dean close enough._

_###_

As they walked into the cold evening, the wind chilled through Dean despite his heavy clothes. His body ached all over from the crash and he knew that Cas had to feel even worse. Walking through this barren tundra, it was hard not to think of purgatory. Of the fighting and the blood and the running and the pain. And the losing, especially the losing. When Cas had stayed behind in purgatory, Dean had thought he'd lose everything. He'd just gotten Cas back and to lose him againwas something he never wanted to go through. And now, Dean had to get them both out of this. Unlike in purgatory, here Dean and Cas could starve or freeze or die of infection, and even though Dean didn't want to admit it, he was afraid.

"We need to make our way up the mountain. Think you can do it?"

Cas nodded, his features drawn together and deeply serious. "Yes, Dean."

Dean shut his eyes. He wished he could shut it down – that flutter he'd get in his stomach, like he'd swallowed moths, every time he heard Cas say his name.

"Dean, wait," Cas said.

"What?"

"I don't know how to use a gun," he said quickly, a redness melting in his cheeks. "I can't _figure it out._"

Dean knew he shouldn't have been so short with Cas back at the cave, but after last night, he had to keep his distance. Keep his head on straight. Still, he didn't have to be so hard on him.

"Guess you didn't need to know how with all that smiting." Dean half-smiled.

"No. I didn't."

Dean shook his head, then lifted two fingers and gestured for Cas to come towards him. Cas looked around as if Dean must have been referring to someone else, which was ridiculous and made Dean shut down a laugh. Cas slowly walked forward until they were less than a foot away.

"Keep the safety on when you're not using the gun. Don't wanna blow your foot off - or mine."

Dean showed him where the safety was and how to use.

"Hold it like this." Dean took the shotgun from Cas and showed him how to support it with his hand and his shoulder.

"Yes." Cas nodded, his eyes narrowed and watching intently. "I've seen you do that."

"Keep it steady, look where you're shooting and pull the trigger." Dean handed Cas the gun. "You try."

A really concentrated look appeared on Cas's face as he tried to repeat what Dean had just showed him. The shotgun was a bit crooked and not gripped tightly enough. If Dean didn't step in, he could hurt someone. So Dean moved behind Cas. He put his hand under Cas's left arm and pushed up on it slightly. Cas tensed and so did Dean.

"You have to be tense but relaxed," Dean said, his mouth near Cas's ear. He smelled like a campfire.

"How can I be tense and relaxed at the same time Dean?" He sighed impatiently. "I don't understand."

"Like this." Dean whispered. His fingertips traced down both Cas's arms. He was wearing a thick coat, but he could still feel the muscles and bones beneath the fabric. He kept his hands moving until their fingertips touched.

Dean's chest tightened. He tried not to think about how close he was to Cas. How this feeling had just gotten worse and worse over the years. No matter how hard he tried to deny it. He couldn't. Just couldn't anymore. But it was ridiculous. Cas was like a brother, like family, like everything. So why did his heart pick up, kick against his ribs, why did his mouth go dry every time he was near Cas? It was stupid, jacked-up crazy, but how long could he deny it? And at the end of the day, why? Why was he denying it?

Because what would happen next? There was no light at the end of this tunnel. No happy ending for Dean Winchester. But maybe there could be for Cas and for Sam. Normal lives and futures, but not for him. There couldn't be.

"Uh, Dean." Cas's voice jarred him from his thoughts. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine." Dean dropped his hands away from Cas. "Your holding the gun fine now. Turn the safety on and let's beat it."

Dean hurried ahead of Cas, doing all he could to get his mind on anything else. To forget that urge he'd had to bend down and kiss the small freckle just beneath Cas's ear.

###

_Cas had to keep running. He deserved to run and fight and bleed. He couldn't let Dean get hurt because of him. The leviathans wanted to tear him apart. He was a magnet drawing them in so he had to stay away from Dean. That was his punishment. His true punishment._

_He could live with the fighting and running and the pain. He'd lived with that all his life. He was an angel. God's soldier, born and bred for battle. But he'd done terrible things, and he knew he deserved punishment, real punishment. That meant he couldn't be with Dean. Because being with Dean Winchester was the one thing he wanted, the one thing he was selfishly, achingly desperate for._

_He had to let go. He had to._

Castiel and Dean had walked for hours. The snow had started to fall again. Despite the fact that it was day, it felt like night between the cloud cover and freezing wind. They were walking close now because it kept them warmer. The back of Dean's gloved hand kept brushing into the back of Castiel's. Every time it happened, Castiel felt like he was falling and had to catch his footing.

One time the uneasiness was too much, making his calves go numb between the pain and the cold and Dean's closeness. Castiel stumbled into Dean's side. Dean stopped him from falling by grabbing his hand. _Grabbing his hand._

Dean and Castiel's eyes met. The one thing Castiel knew in that moment was he would not be the one to drop Dean's hand. He couldn't even move, couldn't even think.

Dean's chest expanded and then collapsed heavily. "Still haven't got used to the human legs, I see." He swallowed. "Don't need you falling down and breaking my gun."

"I don't think I could break this gun by falling."

_Shut up, Castiel, _he thought to himself.

"Right," Dean said, distractedly and dropped Castiel's hand.

"Let's get a move on." Dean hurried up ahead of Castiel, leaving him yards behind. Cas was hurting, and rushing to catch up when he heard a sound, like a large rubber band breaking in front of him.

Suddenly, Dean was tossed into the air, his body wrapped in in wire and rope. He'd set off some sort of trap, but who'd set a trap out here? Whoever it was, wasn't friendly. Trapping large game was illegal. So the trappers were criminals.

"Dean!" Castiel shouted and rushed forward.

"Dammit." Dean thrashed in the trap. Castiel's heart was pounding. How could he have let this happen? That said if he had holding Dean's hand they both would have ended up in the trap.

"I'll cut you down." Castiel dropped the bag he was carrying and frantically rummaged through it for a knife.

"Keep a knife on you, Angel," grumbled Dean.

Castiel was silent until he had the blade against the rough rope. "I'm not an angel anymore."

His eyes reached Dean's and his breath stiffened in his chest. Castiel had to ignore the feeling and keeping slicing into the rope.

"Cas, behind you," hissed Dean.

Castiel turned and behind him stood five black eyed demons.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think. We'll see next time how Cas and Dean manage to get out of this mess :) Thanks again!**


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